


Beautiful Things

by gryffindorJ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, M/M, Masturbation, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorJ/pseuds/gryffindorJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius always liked beautiful things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Things

Sirius always liked beautiful things. He wanted to hold them, possess them, keep them for himself. It was one of the reasons he hated this house. It was his. All of it. Every bit of crumbling plaster, every threadbare rug, every ugly elf head, every piece of tarnished silver, and anything else you could think of right down to the fucking spider webs. All his horrible, derelict inheritance that he did everything to avoid but wound up with anyway. A sick, poetic justice. 

The house had once been beautiful, Sirius could remember that. It was the house all family members wanted. His cousins had envied the house. The house was from Sirius' father's line. Their family home they had received by default. It was supposed to be Alphard's, but he managed to get properly disinherited. A status Sirius was growing more jealous of with each passing day. 

When Sirius was a child the house was clean, well-ordered. Even if it was that way now it would still be hideously ugly. The house was heavy with memories of racism so ingrained thatit probably was the mortar that plastered the stones together. With every step Sirius took within its walls he could feel the cutting words, the screaming lectures, the glares of disappointment. All of them weighing on him so much that he constantly felt exactly as he felt the day before he ran away. 

When he had run away, that had been the one time Sirius left a beautiful thing. Regulus. Regulus had been truly beautiful, once. Sirius could see, even then, that Regulus would turn ugly, like their house. It wasn't in Regulus to tell the world the fuck off the way Sirius could. And so, he had left Regulus so he could to run to James. 

James had once surpassed every beautiful thing Sirius had ever known. The other part of Sirius' soul that he didn't know he was missing till it was staring him in the face. The best, most stunning part of James was that Sirius could never quite have him. Sirius appreciated that elusiveness. It made the moments when it was just them more precious. When the world would shrink to just the two of them it was all Sirius had ever wanted. 

James had left though, and sometimes Sirius wondered if he ever really had James at all. If he had, why would James leave him? It was a pain Sirius felt so acutely that it was like his worst days at Azkaban, all over again. The times when being Padfoot wasn't enough, and the cloak of darkness, with its daggers, would tear away at him from the inside out. 

But, when the darkness would recede, he could remember he hadn't been left completely. He had Harry. He would race to find Harry, urgent to see that, yes, he still had beautiful things. 

And here, now, with Harry spread out on the bathroom tile beneath him, Harry was at his most beautiful. Sirius held his narrow hips in his hands, thumbs pressing to bone while his fingers dug into the flesh of his arse. Harry was hot and eager in his mouth. 

Sirius sucked slowly, swirling his tongue around the tip, tasting Harry, and then sliding his mouth down, down, down till Harry's cock was pushing down his throat and Sirius could squeeze his lips around the base. 

Harry moaned and bucked his hips, Sirius pressed down, hard, keeping Harry from thrusting and coming too soon. 

″Oh God, oh God. Sirius,″ Harry said.

″Shhh,″ Sirius said as he pulled off Harry's cock. He looked down at Harry and their eyes met. ″Don't want to be overheard.″ Harry rolled his lush, red, lower lip into his mouth and nodded. 

Sirius felt tenderness, so heart gripping, surge through him that he leaned down and kissed Harry. Pulling Harry's lip from Harry's mouth to his. Harry gripped the back of Sirius' neck and kissed him back. His hips involuntarily rutted against Sirius' thigh as their tongues glided past each other. 

Sirius pulled back and kept his gaze locked on Harry. ″You want to be loud, don't you? Want to scream when you come down my throat.″ 

Harry didn't nod or say yes, he groaned and said, ″God.″ And pressed his cock hard to Sirius' leg. 

Sirius took out his wand and said, ″I like when it's hard for you to be quiet. All those moans straining in the back of your throat. But just this once, for you. Next time, later, in my room, no spells.″ Sirius flicked his wand, surrounding them in safety. Harry kissed Sirius, sweaty hands tangling in the front of his shirt. 

Sirius pulled away and lowered himself back down Harry's body. He thought about how he hoped he had a clean shirt to change into, or at least could get the wrinkles out of this one. Remus would be by later and he would see the tell-tale wrinkles and know. That was if Remus didn't already know. 

Sirius knew Remus at least suspected, but would never do anything about it. Remus could never confront Sirius in such a way. He would be afraid of turning Sirius against him so completely. 

Remus, once upon time, had been one of Sirius' beautiful things. Sometimes he still was, but that was hard to achieve now. There was so much broken and hurt between them, the beauty that was once them had been destroyed. The sort of magical destruction that could never, ever be repaired properly. They were like Remus' body. Every part worked as it should but it was marred with scars and bite marks. Some scars were fresh, red and still swollen – wolfsbane was not always available – and other scars were so old that Sirius had never seen Remus' body without them. 

Sirius had once been beautiful. Thirty-five years old and he was a broken, old man. When he and Remus were alone, touching, kissing, buried deep inside each other's bodies, he knew, if only for a moment, that he was beautiful again. Remus saw what he used to see when it was always them. But like dreams, the realness of it faded in the light of day. 

Sirius saw how Remus looked at Tonks. Young, unburdened by the massive destructions of war. He knew why Remus sometimes sought her attention. It was so pure, so without any guile at all, that it could make you feel clean and new. If Remus knew about him and Harry, then he would turn away because the guilt of looking at Tonks would keep his silence. 

Sirius took Harry in his mouth again. He sucked Harry to the root. Harry cried out and arched his back. His unintelligible words and moans echoed off the bathroom walls. 

He wrapped his tongue around Harry's cock and sucked hard. Bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks. He could see one of Harry's hands trying in vain to grip the bathroom floor. Harry lightly put the other on the back of Sirius head, and then took it quickly away. 

Sirius slowed for a moment grabbed Harry's hand and put it on the back of his head and pushed down. He doubled his efforts as Harry's fingers threaded through his hair. Harry rolled his hips manically, trying to meet each thrust of Sirius' mouth. Now, if Harry just pulled his hair it would be perfect. 

″Oh fuck,″ Harry said and Sirius bobbed his head faster. Curse words rarely came from Harry's lips unless his he was close. 

Harry arched and thrust so erratically beneath Sirius it was like a flailing fish out of water. It was so needy that Sirius groaned around Harry's cock. Harry stilled and Sirius sucked _hard_. Harry cried out as come spilled over Sirius' tongue and down his throat. He sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed, not one drop lost. 

Sirius pulled back, sat on his heels, and looked down at Harry. Sweaty, flush and naked beneath him. Sirius undid his trousers with haste and pushed his hand down his pants. Harry looked at him with heavy eyes and moist lips as red as ripe strawberries. Beautiful.

It didn't take Sirius more than a few strokes. He watched Harry and groaned as release took over his body. He felt come spill over his hand, down his leg, and soak into his pants. 

Sated, and feeling as if his body hadn't a single bone left, he sagged against the wall. Harry reached for him and pulled him down next to him. Sirius put one arm around Harry, and Harry turned to look at him. 

This moment, right now, this is why Sirius would never be able to stop. Harry looked at him with openness and adoration. He could see himself in Harry's eyes, and in Harry's eyes he was beautiful. Always beautiful.


End file.
